


work number 3: lies.

by Bigender_shitposter1



Category: Real life - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7507681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bigender_shitposter1/pseuds/Bigender_shitposter1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I should write more so imma write about my feelings on telling lies and keeping secrets. Might be shitty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	work number 3: lies.

**Author's Note:**

> After this I'm probably going to post about jealousy. All this radical fresh angst and crazy makes for a good read. On a side note, I just discovered the inbox and it confused me. Now it, like Facebook messenger, spooks me a lot.

Despite being good at it, I hate lies. I hate not being able to tell the truth and I hate what the truth can do. Sometimes, the truth tries to slip out. Some days my jokes are too real and people wonder if all those times I joked about how much I hate myself were serious. They never see past my humor in the end. Some days are more tiresome than others and I almost tell them because I just feel so shitty that I know nothing will stop the razor and I want them to stop me. But if I tell them I risk losing them. Im not ready to risk losing my friend's trust and care. I'm not ready to risk losing the wonderful conversations we have, just so I can burden them with my problems. I want to see them smile, not worry. I don't want them to stare and ask about my scares and how I feel, I want them to joke with me about the silly things in life. I don't want to expose them to the things wrong with me, even though they are far from innocent. I get so tired of the lies. But I will keep lying. For them.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by: real life, peeps wanting more stuff, my best friend getting close to knowing, and the fact that when my dad went looking through my room (for an SD card I knew wasn't FUCKING UP IN ANY OF MY SHIT) he found some old razors and bloody socks and didn't even notice. He legit had that shit in his hand it spooked me into another reality for most this week.


End file.
